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Sabine versus Griff
Sabine looks away from her brother taking in the view of the castle, than clearing her mind as she takes a deep breath. The
vampriss flips her wrists grabbing the handles of her new blades. She had to admit her brother did a damn good job on them.
Sabine looked over her blades griping the handles she swings her arms to get use to the weight of them.She sighs and wrinkles
her brow as her brothers cryptic words sink in, If he meant how it sounded she was in trouble although was not totally sure
why. The petite woman takes one last look at her husband than lets her emerald hues fall upon her older brother once more.
Sabine shifts her weight to her left leg as she bends it slightly.Crossing her foot an d half long Damphire's in front of
her, she gives Griff a smirk indicating she was now ready.Sabine starts to walk towards her brother than breaks into a flat
out run charging at him with the speed of her race.As the vampriss gets with in striking distance she catapults into the air
trying to get the upper hands as her brother is taller than her.Sabine extends her left leg at him aiming at his midsection
as she swings her new blades hoping to carve into his upper chest area.
Griff keeps his jade eyes locked on the woman before him. She was tall, slender, and strong. He noted all this, readying
himself. His black hair skidded around his face as he watched, his fingers tightening and loosening as his sister races at
him. With a loud growl, he watches he feet smack off the hard floor of the dilapidated castle, and kept his gaze until she
made direct contact with his belly. Groaning loudly, he snarled, catching her cut in his own, keeping his blades at an X to
defend. Throwing her off with a forward rush, he sends himself back some, growling. “Sister… I never did tell
you what my mother was, did I? I mean, you know your parents, and you know my father adopted you, but… you don’t
know my mother, do you?” He’d wait for her next attack to reveal the answer to this. Now, he stretched out either
arm, making giant wings, it seemed. Getting, as she did, within range, he knew well that she could very easily smack him in
the face with some magic or something. Knowing this, he sent both his blades into the ground below him, sending him flying
into the air, where he proceeded to fly up, and then spiral down at her, the blades working as propellers. His feet came at
hear head, spinning quite fast.
Sabine is thrown back as her blades make contact with his and her foot with his midsection.She lands safely upon the ground
looking at him , she wrinkles her brow as he speaks about where they cam from." Your mother?? I was told......"she stopped
her sentence as he extends his blades Making him look larger than he was, she could not help but think that the blades looked
like wings.The vampriss again takes a deep breath trying to keep her thoughts on herself and not think of those in the room
or even the fact she was fighting her own flesh and blood... self preservation was what she had to focus on.Griff came at
her, like a giant bat from above.Sabine flicks her wrists again releasing the handles from her hands for a moment,she back
flips away from him as he careens towards her.Sabine yelps as his foot hits her back,throwing off her momentive,she falls
to the ground.Then vampriss growls as she rolls out of the way and jumps to her feet.Sabine than hisses "Damn you!,she than
charges at him again deciding this time not to attack him with her magic, only her blades and her sheer will to beat him.The
vampriss pulls her right arm straight back aiming it at his belly, and raising her left hoping to cleave his head from his
neck.
Griff found himself smiling widely as he skidded back to his previous spot on the rocky floor. His eyes kept Sabine wrapped,
making sure that nothing she could do could possibly go unseen. With a bit of a scoffing laugh, he turned his blades out like
the wings once more. “My mother was not yours. Nor was my father. You were handed to us from the Dragon. My father,
as with Pappy and Vash, was human. My mother…” He grinned wider as two, gigantic wings, very similar to that or
the falcon, spread from his back. Grinning, he looked on, lowering his arms just as Sabine’s left blade comes swooping
in to murder him. Twisting far back, her blade cuts some of his longer bangs, not to mention nicking his right wing. Growling
loudly as he stepped back, he kept the wings tightly to his back, smiling. Now, with no hesitation, he began working his wrists,
spinning the two blades, running at Sabine with the twin buzz-saws, aiming to slice her apart.
Sabine steps backwards as he speaks to her again "Lies...Lies.....No....",angered by her brothers verbal assaults, she again
crosses her blades in front of her. She watches as blood falls from his wing confused to how a human had such things if not
related to her and Deavanor.Sabines eyes widen in horror as her brother charges at her swing his blade in such a way she was
unsure she could survive.The vampriss parts her soft lips, letting her bardic ways take pesidence over the blades, at least
for the moment.As the song fills the castle, she is engulfed within its bright emerald hue.She again ascends into the sky
trying to get out of his reach.His blades cut into her thighs causing her to yell loudly from the pain.She looks down towards
him,watching for a moment as her blood flows to the ground,pooling under her.She lands back on the ground grunting in pain.Sabine
than screams in anger "I'll get you!" Lunging at him, she growls again.Sabine swings her blades over and over again in an
X pattern.,Just as she is about to strike she spins, with her arms extended, as if a vampric windmill,spinning with enough
force,should his armor not hold she might cut him in two
Griff was wearing no armor. Only his skin, pants, boots, and the falcon like wings which he was quite proud of. Jumping
quite high into the air, he jumps over the first cut, but it nicked when she comes back around, slicing the back of his thigh.
Growling, he lets go of his right hand, reaching down to the cut, mumbling one of his own bardic chants, healing the nasty
cut. Looking down to her, then the cut, he growls, seeing the scar tissue. “Dammit, another one!?” He looked down
to her, flapping his wings gently, keeping him aloft. “Little sister, you made a big mistake.” He looked at his
sister, grabbing both the blades and pressing them together. Smiling softly, he closes his eyes, leaving himself wide open
for an attack.
Sabine growls as only one blade makes it make.Again she backs away yet stops when she sees he is not going to attack, she
blinks and gives him a slightly confused look. The bardic vampire brings her blades up protecting her belly and chest from
him.After what felt like forever between them and their staring contest Sabine lets out another growl as she again gets into
the air."You forget min broder, I too can fly" Glaring at him she hisses than swings her Damphires at him again,she aims the
right one for his shoulder at an angle hoping to cut his wing as well and the left aimed at his lower belly about where his
kidneys would be
Griff stood perfectly still in the air, not hearing her, nor feeling the gushing blood from his wing tissue and his belly.
The pain of the clean cut, he wounds, all unaffected. His lips, she could now see, rippled slowly and gently, showing off
some chant or something, which, soon, caused the two sickle like weapons to shine a soft, grass tone. His eyes open, green
fires pouring out like tears. “I am an Aven. A race of man closest to Gods. A race of flight. Bird folk, some refer
to them, in legends. My mother was one.” He looked to Sabine’s blades. “These weapons represent the revenge
of a child raped into existence. An unwilling woman from a vampiric man. I, myself, am not a vampire by race, but I feel for
Damphires.” He left it at that, rushed backwards and flung both of his arms forward. The blades stayed at his wrists,
but the lights shot forward, skidding through the air, eating it to propel them further. They screamed along, and he sat back
and watched as one of his finer attacks went forth.
Sabine watches as her blades cut into his flesh, taking in a deep breath she takes in the scent of her brothers blood and
that of her own.Sabine begins to chant as she is startled by Griff admission to who he is. He chant becomes louder as she
is again engulfed within her protective aura.The blast of light from Griffs blades send the vampiric bard flying into a far
wall.As the aura holds Sabines body slides down the wall, crumpling to the floor, while not hurt by the initial blast she
was left stunned.Sabine slowly looks up towards him where she lay, her soft emerald hues questioning him.
Griff versus Blackabyss
Griff sighs lightly. His hands tremble lightly at the prospect of being dead soon. This, however, does not deter his actions.
He pulls his lute forward, playing on it a sad tune. The emeralds around his back begin to join, forming something. He looks
onto the face of what could be his death with a smile. "If I win… I will enjoy lobbing that ugly head of yours off…"
He then closes his eyes, playing at an ungodly speed, some new song, something no one had heard him play before. As the music
twisted in and out of the branches of the forest, wind picked up heavily, causing a light storm. His emerald hues sparkled
in the dim light of the stormy skies. Nothing would change his mind now. The bard smiled lightly amidst his shaggy black hair.
It felt fitting to him. If he was to die, it should have been to the one who has cause his so much grief. The music played
on, loud and powerful, winds carrying it in and out of the tavern. He smirked as he began to glow a bright shade of green.
"He it begins…"
Blackabyss looks at his foolish nephew and lets out a sigh of discomfort for what he must now do. As the winds pick up the
death knight looks around and smiles laughsing slightly "Still playing that stupid instrument i see, well I will have to put
a stop to that." Black Abyss lifts up his right hand slowly focusing energy into the palm of his hand causeing light around
him to bend as a shadowy figure seems to step out from within him he smirks and looks at the balld of black flame that has
finnally begun to form in his hand. As you all look closely the ball looks like a flameing black skull as it turns in his
hand he quickly jets his hand out infront of himself sending the ball of dark energy right for the lute intentding to cause
it to explode…
Griff watches as the black skull screeches toward him. "Pathetic!" He stops his song where it sounds like an appropriate
pause, hiding the lute and jumping. He plants his feet onto the black mana and smirks. The energy turns into a green falcon
and goes to Griff's shoulder. The emeralds in back of his begin to form into what looks like… wings. Griff chuckles
lightly and brings his lute back out, playing as though he had not stopped. The negative energy in him travels into the lute,
turning it to obsidian black. "Oh… have any good-byes?" He taunts lightly. Griff watches as the falcon swoops off of
his shoulder and goes screaming at Blackabyss, gaining what seems to be, perhaps, 10 times it's previous size. Griff, in the
mean time, plays a new song, something more suited for battle.
Blackabyss chuckles evilly as he watchs his nephew gloat "you know not what you face child." Black Abyss's shadow then quickly
charges towards griff passing right through the falcon uneffected it continues its path towards the bard with an evil gleam
in its eyes. As the shadow is running the Death knight charges towards the huge falcon and grins as he lifts his right hand
and a black rod of flame appears which at closer glance appears to be a serrated bastard sword. He quickly goes into a combo
on the falcon moveing at lightning speed he attacks it from three different directions getting hit by the creature as he launchs
his first attack. He looks as though he has grown in size as he goes berserk on the falcon dropping its corpse to the ground
as he bleeds from many wounds the creature has caused him while he was killing it. At this time the shadow is about 5 feet
in front of griff as it launchs into its own combo of attacks hopeing to hurt the foolish human when suddenly as it swipes
at the bard it explodes in about a 15foot radius of fire a evil grin plays accross Black Abyss's face as he clenchs his hand
which was pointed towards the shadow...
Griff stands perfectly still to the normal eye. Griff looks up at the shadow, parting the flames with the wind. "That was
a waste…" He raised his hand, looking at the small cuts. He had blocked the combos with his bare hand. He smirked as
the Falcon's mana flew into him, giving him a little burst of power. The wings in back of him burst into perfect detail, showing
off to be falcon-like, just as the bird was. The bard chuckles as the Lute shimmers, the flames doing no damage to the, seemingly
cursed, instrument. Griff stepped forward slowly. "I find it interesting… you have laughed full fledged attacks at me,
and I have done the simplest things to repel them… idiot." He smirks plays another song, the wind picking up fiercely
around the fighters. The music seems to change suddenly, less harmonious, sounding more like bloodshed. The bard's lute was
no longer there. In place of it was a large sword, strings from the head of the blade to the hilt. Griff waves his left hand
forward as emerald shards blasted outward, turning into knives before the death knight. "Idiot…"
Blackabyss looks at griff "you think i have launched full fledged attacks at you? You are more of a fool then i have though
nephew if you had learned anything from me you would realize my final strikes are my worst." as he says this he is pierced
be all the knives and he chuckles slightly as he falls to the gound on one knee. He glances down at his flameing bastard sword
and smiles as he tosses it up into the air it quickly forms into a black ball of flame and begins to float about 100 feet
above the crowd seeming to suck in energy from through out the land of hollow as it quickly begins to fan out forming dark
black clouds in the sky bloting out the sun. The death knight begins to laugh slightly as he looks up at griff with his blue
eyes which slowly turn to a bright red he begins to talk in a demonic voice "Now you shall feel my sting you foolish mortal."
As the crowd stands there a forboding feeling beins to overcome every one as something dark and powerful seems to approuch
quickly the wind blows past every one quickly followed by a loud crashing sound and in the sky a large winged figure can be
seen it appears to be a Gigantic Black Dragon "Voranic you have come, let us make short work of this fool." with the the black
orb in the sky seems to absorb the dragon the light quickly returning as the orb shoots down into black abyss's body as cloud
of black smoke surrounds him all that can be heard is the sound of bones cracking and snaping, flesh,muscles, and tendens
tearing then a loud blood curdleing scream. Then out of the smoke emerges a 8 foot tall winged figure in Black-Spiked fullplate
he snorts as black smoke emits from his nostrils. He fixes his gaze on the bard and quickly charges with such speed that he
breaks the sound barrier as he flies towards the man quickly forming a giant obsidian great sword in his hands as he launchs
a three pronged assualt on the human quickly spitting a line of acid at the man as he attempts to dodge to the side....
Griff blinks. "That's different!" He exclaims as the sword comes crashing down. Griff ducks into a ball on the ground as
his wings surround and hide the bard from sight. The acid fizzles out on the emerald feathers, and the sword does little more
than clip a few strands. Griff balls up his fists and stands suddenly, sending a shock wave outward. He jumps back, flapping
his wings at Blackabyss, or the demon he has become. His emerald wings and obsidian blade disappear, his lute popping onto
his back. Griff's chin long black hair lay flat, blown lightly by the wind. He could not help but wonder who would falls.
Atropos looks around slowly at everyone, nodding to Griff and Blackabyss, "You both fought very well and I thank you for
asking me to judge this for you. It's not often that I get to see a good duel anymore." She turns to face Griff, "Congratulations,
you are the winner."
Griff versus Squee
Griff stood there. His back was to Squee and his eyes faced Alsoomse. A beautiful woman. Typical of the Dryads. However,
that woman had a soul that touched him in a far different world. His eyes shut as he reached into his pack, grabbing two dragon's
teeth. They were each finely polished, and superbly detailed. Spinning about and planting them firmly in the ground, Griff
turns, sticking his arms in deep and grabbing hold. When the man made these, he inserted a steel rod in the teeth, to make
four foot extensions of his arms. With this, he turned about, smiling. To a few, he could be seen with a devilish eye. Something
was amiss. He looked at Squee, silently, for many a minute before laughing. Uproariously. Almost as if laughing balm had made
him drunk. He looked insane at this very moment. He began to spin around, and around and around... until the point he seemed
to lose control. Spinning so hard and so fast that he was beginning to blur. This is when it ended. The moment his blur became
too much, his black hair whipping with him, the laughter ended. He continued to spin, tipped on a single boot, his blades
spinning around and around, dangerous. He looked like a top, save the razor sharp arms. Finally, he made himself move, at
an alarming rate, straight at Squee. The Draconian would undoubtably have to fly to avoid Griff, seeing as he could change
his ground course at any second. The time flies as he runs, spinning madly. This is when it wafts by. The judges can smell
it... something similar to those cold nights in the tavern. Seated alone by a single... lantern.
Squee stands still asa hate spell comes over him. Quickly growing more and more angerly, as the speel grows. reaching behind
him as n pullign a black soul sword from a leather made sachet. smiling as he watches the top known as griff draw near. Pullign
and pointing the sword at the Human top griff. Falling back into a ready stance. Running at the rapidly spinning top he leaps
high attempting to throw the sword into the dangerously top quickly getting knocked back from the force of the top. Squee
falling to his back, he rubs his chest where the top had struck him. After whipping his chest he looks at his hands. His hands
filled with blood. Squee letting out a visious war cry. as the pain takes over his body and soul. A shdow for of himself slowly
appears over his head. Squee tightly gripping his sword and slwly grinding it between his massive hands. Blood slowly begins
to drip from his hands as he has rubed his hands raw from anger. swiftly faling bakc to one knee and wuickly begins to rush
his new rival griff. As squee picks up speen running at griff and quickly stops and canges direction and turning back. Rapidly
launching his sword at griff as the sword gains speed the blood dropplets can be seen falling from the handle as the sword
cuts through the air as it it was a hot blade over cold ice
Griff would normally ask for a translation, but he got it, mostly. As he feels a buckle, he grins, knowing full well that
he just gashed Squee open like a thanksgiving chicken. And how fitting, as he was nothing more than a cluck! Griffs swords
slowed as he veered away from the foolish one, soon heading to a stop. As his eyes trailed back, a ruby covered sword could
be seen streaking at him with a dangerous velocity. Leaning far, far back, Griff raises his blades into an X pattern over
his chest. The odd, bloody sword coasts straight above, running along the blades and sparking. Once it was over, the effect
was seen. Squee's sword was now well imbedded into a tree, and Griff's dragon thingies were on fire.That would explain the
smell of lantern oil. His amrs burn with a great, monsterous glow, an odd green color due to the chemicals that naturally
cover the tooth. His lips spread into a huge smirk, as he preforms a simple chant, his arms moving in a very funkidelic fashion.
After a brief moment, there was nothing. Griff was gone. No remains, either. Save his pack. Where would the ex-bard have gone?
To hell, many probably hope. Just as one might get some kind of happiness, a voice is heard, calling to Squee. "Hey!" Griff
moves out from behind a tree, inches from Alsoomse. His arms were still ablaze. "'member me?" This was not from that Griff.
It was from a second, which immerged from the Tavern. Soon, the area was overun with Griffs. Seven, in all. The thing was,
they all looked, and to those near by, felt, authentic. Which was real?! There did not seem to be much option of thought to
this, though. Before anyone could grasp the situation, the seven bound at Squee, intent on burning, cutting, and maining the
foolish mutt dragon.
Squee still feelign the burn from griffs last attack. Smilling trying to fight the pain. Squee glancing around the room. Throwing
his sword deep into the earth and pullign a Ritual dagger from his side pocket. slowly pulling it out and shines in the eyes
of griff as the moon light reflects off its smooth sharp obsidian blade. Looking arond the room once again and grinning. Slowly
beginds to run towards griff. Qucikly switching to another Griff then quickly to another . pulling the obsidian ritual dagger
up high . Squee reaching dangerouns speeds. Lookign as if there was & squees' and & griffs; the dark shadow figure still appearing
over head of all the squees'. To the untrained eye it loosk as if the room doubles in size. al lthe squee's seem to raise
the dager to the necks of griffs' and swiftly diving and slashing at the necks of all griffs. hopeing to hit the real image
griff
Griff, all seven of him, watch as the seven Squee attack with a slightly sub-par move. A typical downward cut. Just as
seen in typical fights like this, the moment the seven blades touch the seven heads, they vanish in a puff of smoke. However,
this is a problem. See, the seven Squees seemed to put a lot of force into the cut, meaning that all that force was un-stopped.
Down it came, most likely cutting into the Squees. Evade or not, it would seem all the Squees killed all the Griffs....Not.
Just as this thought finishes in the judges heads, a scream is heard from above as A large, green fireball comes down on his
enemy. Many words are uddered at an incredible speed, sounding drow in origin, but their meaing is too garbed amoungst the
roaring pain of fire. A smash is heard, Griff hitting the ground, turning his blade into a long circle cut. This is where
it gets tricky. Anyone who watched very carefully would have seen a second flash, just before the crash. Upon the cut inward,
a strong suction is felt, and Griff appears to be a vacuum, drawing in the Squees. This includes the shadowy figure, who also
feels a pull on itself. Now, with natural laws of physics, standing still will give them no advantage against this powerful
suction, and jumping or lifting a leg will make their approach into the void like man, and his sword, much, much faster. Gods
help Squee......Not."
Squee pulls another dgager out of his pocket and slames both into the ground the force of the void pulls as squee's feet leave
the grouns and is only held by the daggers in the ground. Squee speaking in a dying tonge the shadow figure flies out of the
void and forms a shiedl over the votex. squee falls to the ground painfully hitting his scares and scorched chest. riseing
to his feet his growls and falls to one knee . Pulling both dagger from the ground and pocketing both of them once again.
looking up at griff and smiling as the pain is to unbearable to keep within..
Griff was supposed to defend this turn, but seeing as there WAS no attack... Griff stops his cut, his vortex soon dying
out. He looks on to Squee, his jade eyes scanning the draconian. His black, chin long hair seems to overcome his face and
he just grins. "As I said, Squee. You are a weak leader," His lips curl into an evil smirk. "A weak fighter," His hands discard
the blades, dousing their emerald flame. "And a weak person. And as many of us know, Survival of the fittest is truth. The
strong live and the weak die. The weak are meant to be food for the strong, and those too weak to be food do not deserve to
exist." He laughs gently to himself . "You, Squee, are weak. And I am the personification of strength."
Atropos doesn't move from her comfortable seat, doesn't speak a word. Why? Because she can't! She simply points to Griff,
indicating his is the winner.
Lionel looks up at wraps an arm around Atropos, looks to Griff. "The winner is you."
Silverleaf versus Griff
Silverleaf stands up looking at his opponent from underneath the shade of his hood. All that can be seen in the shadows is
his two stormy blue orbs peering from the depths. The blue of his robes makes his eyes even more alluring than ever as the
normally lambent pixie puts on a serious face, "I have had enough of your lampoons sir and now you shall pay the piper." The
pixie takes his hands out of his robes and withdraws his head from his hood. He places his arms againist the sky as the land
seems to come alive. The dead trees moan as a wind picks up in this area. Dust and ash roll along with it but another more
miraculuos sign is seen. Leaves ride on the wings of this storm glimmering in the sunlight. Their smooth velvety texture is
obvious ase silver viens gleam. Silverleaf spreads his wings now to show them same leaves designed upon his own wings. The
leaves cover the field hiding the pixie from sight. They swirl in the torents and if the pixie were seen amongst them he would
disappear just as fast. The gale now directs itself upon Griff trying to force the knight down into the dust below. To push
him up againist the ground and crush his lungs with such a force. Silverleaf watches as the wind does his bidding and throws
on a wry smile.
Griff really needs to remind people something. Or maybe carry a sign. That being, Aeromancers love the wind. Outstretching
his arms, he ejoys the breeze, keeping the winds just around him calm, as to make sure he won't be squishided. The emerald
eyes of the ex-bard just scan the area, feeling the winds and sencing the living breaths of every person here. Each and every
duel this man takes, he finds himself one step closer to some sort of goal. Something that would one day propell him into
history. However, this was not the day. Right now, he needed to concentrait on this fight. This fight would just pay him a
little. He looks up, grinning widely. "You know, Silver, problem is, I AM a piper, so..." A chuckle. That's all. Jumping back
several feet, his mind closes out everything, finally taking himself into that which would require his utmost attention. A
single flaw in this attack could prove more fatal to him than the actual attack to the enemy. Pressing his hands together,
he begins to chant some ancient and dead language. The words rush from his tounge, bugs in a freshly lit room. What was it
that propelled this man to do nothing but chant? There must be something really amazing coming. Either that... Or he's just
fricken stupid.
Silverleaf looks at the knight and wonders how someone could be so young and master such traits. He sits for a moment lulling
about until he starts tugging at his hair. Set off in some sort os spasm that would make a tumult. He twitche rolling around
on the ground til at next sight shadows are seen. The chaos of these shadows swirl around and out walks the pixie again. His
air is in disarray and seems to be a different color. A deeper black that rivals that of the shadows. His eyes are no darker
as well as shadow infests his skin, "Tee hee I am out for a little fun now." The pixie picks up his stone and starts summoning
shadows to bind his foe and make sure that he cannot talk. The macabe scowl on this pixie's face seems to hold nothing to
its abismal attitude. It grins in pleasure as it seeks to inflict pain.
Griff wasn't paying much attention. He didn't have to. This really wasn't a big stresser. All he had to do was keep his balance,
keep his motions, keep his lips going. The magics would do the rest. Opening his eyes, the ebony haired prodigy looked on,
seeing darkness and bands that rival not only the shadows, but his hair! Griff can't help but roll his eyes. Come on...
Shadows?! Honestly. Even Sabine, little miss goody two shoes uses shadows. However, this was no laughing matter. They weren't
going to attack. They were going to bind! Their intent was obvious the second that no funky tenticals or evil spikes appeared.
A bind would mean a loss of his spell. He stopped his words, his jaw laying in the exact spot, dead still. His hands, previously
at his side, raise up. After a short series of very weird patterns, letters in sign language can be seen. D-A-W-N-S-B-R-E-A-K.
Dawns break...?? This made no sense. Dawn had broken. So, why this spell? He seems normal for a long time, right till the
shadows attempt to grab on. A sizzle. Griff, right at the point of contact, glows powerfully. Every shadow that hits him sizzles,
sending burn damage back to their pixie master. With another weird motion, more letters. F-L-A-S-H. Accurately named. Like
a torch in a dark room, Griff vanquishes the shadows, giving the area a roomy feet for several moments. His lips return to
their chant, his arms still prepared. So far, no real attack. What was he up to!? Well, one thing is for sure. Silverleaf
is ABOUT to find out!
Silverleaf falls down as the burst of light appears and steps back up different yet again, "Funny strange you may not realize
it but you just helped me." He appears to be his normal self once again and grins wildly, "You have fought well but as I must
say I feel it is time to deplete a windbag such as yourself." The pixie starts raising his hands and grabs control of the
wind once more. He concentrates on the area around Griff and uses the wind to creat a powerful vaccum. At first it appears
to be a minature tornado ut it soon starts to grow as clouds tumble over head cutting of the sun. The pixie takes flight into
the air and stands in the midst of the storm as if conducting the crashes of thunder and direction lightning. The clouds swirl
ever fast as the minature tornado grows. It becomes a full blown cyclone running rampant over the field. It rips stumps fro
the ground sending them flinging them everywhere. It heads towards Griff with the winds ready to suck his lungs dry. The rain
splatters on Silverleaf's face but her merely lifts his face to the air inviting the liquid. He stands amidst the gale looking
as calm as ever. His blue eyes just staring at the point of Griff as the tornado closes in upon him. Silverleaf slowly descends
from the sky with the lightning giving off his position as itashes behind him. The thunder roars loud over the crowd but it
appears they are not touched by this storm. As if it has been concentrated upon one point focusing its fury on the peon below.
Silverleaf hits the ground calmly and awaits.
Griff looks up now. His jade eyes open wide at the sight of this horrid storm. He sighs, wondering why this pixie doesn't
seem to catch on, what with the crushing winds bit failing horribly. No matter. All Griff cared about today? 200 gold. He
squatted down low, appearently for a brace, still chanting his overly costly spell. He'd oughta stop and save himself, but
nay. He won't. Watching the storm, keeing his eyes and mouth clear of all debris. Hours seem to pass in these four or five
cold seconds. And at the very last second, no more than six feet apart, his hands do it again, his mouth freezes. S-C-R-E-E-C-H.
Accurate title. The very second it finishes, the ground around Griff starts to hurtle apart, and Griff is shot straight into
the hellish wind tunnle. A moment passes. Two. Then three. Anyone who cared for Griff may very well think he is dead now.
This is when we all realize why it was called screech. A whistle, ear shattering in decible, echos out and Griff is blasted
free like a cannon. Grinning above, he finds himself high in the sky, blocking out the mid morning sun. More chanting. Mumlbing
is as loud as it gets, then whispers, then soft talking, then speach, then a full on shout. The last few words being... "Seven
Winged Falcon!" An odd image flashes for all gathered. Why the hell? How the hell could it fly? Eh. This was not important.
What was, was the sight behind and around Griff. First, two wings, bright emerald green wings, very similar to, shock, a flacon.
Next, his hands burst into a sort of green aura, followed by his eyes and mouth. He presses his arms forward just as his long
awaited decent begins. And now, the fruit on this massive attack can be seen. A large Rign is shot down first, a huge, fourty
foot wall, going from right around the pixie, right into Griff's mouth. Then with four more beans, two from the eyes, two
from the hands, the area is filled in. It would take a near miracle to escape this one, flutter... (final defense!)
Silverleaf sees the wall and sits down. He eyes sit there confidently fixated on wha happenig. From the outside nothing can
be seen except cracks running along the wall. The huge walls starts to deteriorate rapidly crumbling into dust. The light
rays fling off into different directions. Silverleaf sits there muttering still. A wound can be seen in his chest from when
the light had first ripped in. He slowly looks at the wound a places his hand upon it. He mutters the healing spell of nature
as the wound seems to stop bleeding but still remains to be seen. Finally some sigh of what saved Silverleaf shows up as a
breezes whips through the glade hitting all who stands. Silverleaf watches as the wind didown. His eyes roll back as he tries
to clean the wound on his chest. Nature served him well this time as it always did. As noticed by the disenigrated wall rapid
winds had weathered in prematurely abnd the pressure from the light finished it off. The pixie decdies to try and stand but
immediately falls back to one knee wincing in pain.
Adric steps up so that he’s facing the two combatants, trying not to look too bored as his countenance shifts slightly,
clearing his throat, he speaks in a raspy tone. “Good duel the both of you….but the judges have chosen Griff as
the victor.”
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